Chelsie Pride
by theoofoof
Summary: My responses to the #ChelsiePride challenge on Tumbr, where the prompts are quotes from Pride and Prejudice. I may not do them all and they won't be done in the same order as in the original post. I'm using this as a way of trying to get my muse back - it seems she's gone on holiday!
1. I Hardly Know When It Began

**Prompt #11:** "Will you tell me how long you have loved him?" "It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began."

* * *

Elsie is just finishing off the weekly accounts when there is a light tap on her door. Knowing that Mrs. Patmore is in the kitchen and Mr Carson upstairs attending the family, she wonders who might be at her door

"Come in," she calls and startles when the door opens to reveal Lady Mary who, given the time, must have come straight down after the dinner had finished. She rises from her seat immediately. "Milady. What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping to speak with you for a few moments, if that's possible?"

"Of course." While she remains standing, she gestures, inviting Lady Mary to sit.

"What I wish to discuss is a personal matter and I would feel more comfortable if you would sit as well."

"Very well milady," she replies, taking the seat opposite.

"I wanted to offer my congratulations on your engagement."

Elsie is taken aback; she and Charles had agreed to keep the change in their relationship to themselves until the New Year. She can't believe he would go behind her back and confide in Lady Mary, despite how close the two of them are. "I…"

Mary senses she's somehow put her foot in it. "I take it Carson hasn't told you about our conversation this afternoon?"

"I've not spoken to him, milady. I had errands to run in the village and when I returned he was already in the dining room."

Lady Mary sees the concern in the eyes of the Housekeeper, the way Mrs Hughes tries but fails to mask the mild agitation the slowly bubbles to the surface. The pull of her jaw, the bite of the lip, the stinging comment that she pushes down. Carson had confided in Lady Mary that he and his intended had not approached her parents nor told anyone else, yet here she is, imposing her congratulations on the Housekeeper, and putting Carson into hot water. Normally no one intimidated Lady Mary, but she respects Mrs. Hughes and feels that she needs to put this faux pas right.

"Mrs Hughes, perhaps I should explain," Lady Mary offers.

* * *

 _Lady Mary was walking through the main hall when she heard singing. She stopped and listened. It was coming from the dining room. As she approached, she realised it was a voice she hadn't heard sing in a long time, since she and her sisters were children._

" _Let me call you 'Sweetheart', I'm in love with you. Let me hear you whisper that you love me too." Carson was singing whilst measuring the distances between place settings And he was smiling; no beaming._

 _Mary couldn't help but smile at the choice of song as she stood quietly in the doorway. She had a fairly good idea who he would be thinking about as he sang, she'd watched his regard for Mrs Hughes deepen over the years, but she was intrigued as to what had caused him to be so lax in his professional persona._

" _Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true. Let me call you 'Sweetheart', I'm in love with you." Carson finished tunefully._

" _Milady!"_

" _It's alright Carson. I won't give you away. It was rather nice to hear you sing; it took me back to my childhood."_

 _He relaxed a little at Lady Mary's comments, but was still cursing his lack of professionalism. He didn't know what had come over him recently. No, that was a lie. It was all because of Elsie and their understanding. He was happy, happier than he'd been in a long time and it had taken him by surprise how hard that was to supress._

" _Carson, who is the sweetheart that has you singing so happily?" Lady Mary asked with a knowing smile._

 _Charles swallowed nervously, was it really that obvious? "I don't know what you mean milady. I must have heard one of the staff singing it downstairs and it's got stuck in my head."_

 _Mary shook her head and smiled. "You're a hopeless liar Carson. Does Mrs Hughes know how you feel?"_

 _Carson grimaced; he'd been caught out. He hadn't meant to be so cavalier with their secret, with their new understanding and he was sure that Mrs. Hughes would throttle him for letting his guard down before they'd had a chance to tell the family together. "I'm not sure it's appropriate to speak of this milady."_

" _A wise man once told me that we should tell the ones we love what's in our hearts. If we love them we should let them know and that if we don't, we'll regret it our whole life long."_

" _You can rest assured that he has taken his own advice milady," he replies honestly._

" _I'm glad. So you have an understanding?"_

" _We do, milady. I have asked for her hand and she has accepted, but I must ask that this remains our secret. It is not our wish to make it public just yet._

" _Of course, Carson. You know me. My lips are sealed."_

* * *

"So you see, Mrs. Hughes, I pressed him for the information," explains Mary. "And to be fair to him, I already had my suspicions."

Elsie blushes; have they really been so obvious? "Milady, I'm not sure Mr Carson would appreciate being the subject of our conversation. You know how much he values his privacy."

"You're right of course, and he said a similar thing during our conversation. May I ask just one thing?" Elsie nods. "You and Carson have worked together for a good number of years now… How long have you loved him?"

The question takes Elsie by surprise. While the question is impertinent, she's not surprised that Lady Mary has asked; she doubts the young woman would be afraid to ask the Duke of Kent about the variety of his dalliances. The thing is that when she thinks about her answer, she can't pinpoint a moment where she fell in love with him. She was in the middle of it before she realised.

Mary takes Elsie's silence as a refusal to answer. "I'm sorry, I've embarrassed you." She stands to leave.

"No, it's not that, milady" Elsie declares and Mary retakes her seat. "It's just that it happened so gradually, the change from colleagues to friends to... I hardly know when it began."

Elsie notices the corners of Lady Mary's lips tug upwards just slightly, the corners of her eyes crinkle as her face melts into the recognition of something that Elsie suspects doesn't have to do with her or Charles. The distant look in the young woman's eyes is fleeting, her porcelain facade reappearing as quickly as it had left, but Elsie knows that she has been privy to something personal, something that only a few have seen. The real Mary; the Mary that Charles sees.

"Well then," continues Mary, "I shall leave you to get on. I really do wish you and Carson much happiness. And, if there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."

Elsie watches Mary leave. She wasn't sure quite what to make of the conversation, but further thought on the matter was put on hold by a loud crash from the kitchen and a string of ranting curses from Mrs Patmore.

Elsie shakes her head and, opening the door, takes a deep breath to steel herself for the battle she's about to walk into.

* * *

There's another knock on her sitting room door just before the servants dinner is due to be served. Charles pops his head around the door. "Do you have a moment, Mrs Hughes?" he asks, the picture of professionalism.

"Of course, Mr Carson." He closes the door and she continues. "I wanted a word anyway."

"Oh?" he asks, though her tone tells him this isn't going to be pleasant.

"Yes. You see, I had a visit from Lady Mary earlier this evening," she tells him, keeping her eyes firmly on him.

Charles feels himself wither slightly under her gaze. "Ah. Yes. I did mean to tell you. In fact I came looking for you but you'd gone to the village."

"You told her." Elsie states.

Charles hangs his head, ashamed. "I apologise Elsie. We agreed to keep it to ourselves and I failed to do so. But in my defence, if you'll allow me to present one, she guessed most of it anyway. All I did was confirm it. You know me, Elsie… I'm a terrible liar."

"Yes, you are," she agreed, thinking back to a time in her life she'd rather forget, and his private care and concern for her.

"Would you feel better if _you_ could tell someone? Mrs Patmore perhaps? Or Anna?"

"Mrs Patmore already knows." She mumbles so quietly, Charles wonders if he misheard, but the look in her eyes confirms that he did not.

"So you're annoyed at me for telling, when you've told too?"

"I told Mrs Patmore _after_ I found out you'd told Lady Mary and it was only to distract her so she wouldn't kill poor Gladys." Charles looks at her quizzically. "She dropped a bowl of Hollandaise," explains Elsie.

Charles nods in understanding; he's been on the receiving end of Mrs Patmore's anger more times than he'd have liked. "Perhaps we should consider making an announcement sooner rather than later," he suggests.

"Perhaps," she agrees. "We can discuss it later; we're late for supper. Everyone will be waiting."

He leads her silently through the door, a fleeting touch of his hand against her back. They are halfway to the Servants' Hall when he speaks again. "Oh I almost forgot. Lady Mary has invited Mr Napier to stay next week, so we'll need to make up a room."

Elsie nods and then remembers her conversation with Lady Mary and the look on the young woman's face when she had spoken about the gradual deepening of her feelings for Charles. Perhaps she and Charles won't be the only ones with a happy union to celebrate in the near future.

* * *

 **A/N:** You should Google the Duke of Kent - the tales of his dalliances are quite salacious for their time!


	2. The Happiest Creature in the World

**Prompt #6:** "I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one with such justice."

* * *

"Is now a good moment?" Charles asks Elsie, as the strains of 'For He's a Jolly Good Fellow' fill the room.

She is slightly taken aback by his words. It's not that he wants to speak with her, she's been expecting that, it's his timing that shocks her. His Lordship is being celebrated, yet Charles is going to leave the party? "It is if you want it to be."

Following his lead, they make their way downstairs. On the way Elsie collects two cups of punch; it's Christmas after all, they should celebrate and she wants Mr Carson to know that she's happy that he's bought his house. Granted, there's a twinge of sadness that she isn't a part of it, but she has accepted that it cannot be.

He leads her into his pantry and closes the door behind them. She turns to him and offers him some punch, but he refuses. "I don't think I should."

"Go on," she insists, hardly believing that his sense of propriety won't allow him a drink on Christmas Eve. "It's Christmas. Let's toast your new house."

Her comment paves the way for the conversation Charles knows he can put off no longer. "Maybe I should mention one thing. You say, 'your new house' but it isn't only mine."

"No?" She wonders if he has another investor when he told her he could afford to buy the house on his own. She fights down the pangs of hurt and jealousy that spring up inside. She is pleased for him, really; he is not to blame for her situation and she must be happy for him.

"No," he confirms, taking a breath to steady his nerves before ploughing on with his confession. "I've registered it in both of our names. I hope you don't mind but I hate to change a plan when there's no need."

Elsie's face falls. She isn't a charity case and she doesn't want his pity. "Mr Carson. I'm very appreciative… really. But I can't accept."

Charles is confused. "Why not?"

Elsie rolls her eyes. Surely it's obvious why. "Who knows what the future may hold, or how much longer we'll even be here. Suppose you want to move away and change your life entirely. You don't want to be stuck with me."

As she speaks he is transported back to the beach, to the last time she had 'supposed' things... when she had offered him her hand. He wishes he could take her hand now; he could use a bit of steadying at the moment. It's thrown him slightly that she hasn't read his intentions correctly. He'd thought she'd have an inkling of how he felt; thought he'd shown her over the past months, silently, slowly courting her. But it appears not. He needs to say something to convince her that this is what he wants; he isn't settling or sacrificing in any way.

"But that's the point," he says.

"What is?"

He takes a moment to compose himself, before telling her what has been on his heart ever since Mrs Patmore had brought the spectre of retirement into their midst. "I do want to be stuck with you."

Elsie looks at him in shock; he can't be saying what it sounded like he was saying, can he? "I'm not convinced I can be hearing this right."

"You are, if you think I'm asking you to marry me," he clarifies, almost breathless from the emotion of the conversation.

She freezes, shocked by his proposal, her expression unreadable. And he is left at the mercy of the silence that now fills the room. When he can stand it no longer he gently asks, "Well?"

"Well," she breathes, "you could knock me down with a feather."

Charles takes hope from the fact that her reaction hasn't been particularly negative. That has to be good sign, doesn't it? "And you're not offended?"

"Mr. Carson, I can assure you the very last thing in the world that I am at this moment is offended." She truly isn't. She knows Mr Carson wouldn't propose out of pity or a sense of charity; he values the institution of marriage too highly to do that.

Charles is relieved; the last thing he wants is to have insulted her. But she still hasn't answered his question. Maybe she needs time to think about it. "You can take as long as you like." he offers. "I won't press you. Because one thing I do know; I'm not marrying anyone else."

Their eyes lock for a moment, his admission confirming what she already suspects; there is much more to this proposal than a mere business arrangement. She breaks the connection to hand him his cup of punch. "Well then."

Charles feels as if he's missed something. _What_ does she mean by 'well then' and _what_ are they toasting to? "What exactly are we celebrating?" he asks uncertainly.

Despite the seriousness of the moment, she can't resist teasing him a little. "We're celebrating the fact that I can still get a proposal at my age," she replies with a smile.

"And that's it?" He inwardly curses himself, he'd told her a few moments ago that he wouldn't press her, but here he is doing exactly that. He can't help himself; he needs to know.

Elsie shakes her head at his eagerness and places her free hand to her chest. "Of course I'll marry you, you old booby!" she replies with a smile, as she steps towards him, closing the gap between them. "I thought you'd never ask." She places her free hand on his arm and squeezes it gently as tears fill his eyes.

They stand there for several moments, connected only by her hand on his arm, but the emotional connection they felt is stronger than ever.

Charles clears his throat, and lifts his punch cup. "Well then, a toast."

"To?"

"To something other than you still being able to get a proposal at your age," he answers, with a glint in his eye.

Elsie chooses to ignore his gentle teasing. "How about, 'to the future'," she suggests. "Whatever it may hold for us, together."

Charles agrees. "To _our_ future," he beams.

They clink their glasses and sip their punch, standing opposite each other, still connected by her hand on his arm. When their cups are empty, Elsie reluctantly steps back, taking his cup from him. "We should be returning to the party; we'll be missed if we linger any longer."

Charles knows she's right but, for the first time in his career, something is conflicting with his commitment to serve the family; his desire to spend time with his fiancée. Elsie senses his reluctance. "We can speak more once everyone is in bed," she promises, before taking the cups to the kitchen.

When she returns, Charles is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, having made peace with the fact that they will have to share each other with the rest of the household for the next few hours at least. He holds out his arm, indicating for her to climb the stairs ahead of him and then follows close behind.

She's almost at the green baize door, when he calls out to her. "Mrs Hughes…"

She stops and turs to him expectantly. They can't linger behind the door, any one of the staff could walk through at any moment. "Yes, Mr Carson?" she asks lovingly.

He knows now is probably not the best time, but he needs to ask her one more thing. He should have asked when they were downstairs but she'd been determined to return to the party, so as not to draw attention to themselves. But he finds that this can't wait. He swallows, suddenly nervous, because her answer to this question will probably have more bearing on his heart than her answer to his earlier proposal did. "I… Are you happy?"

She smiles. "I feel I'm the happiest creature in the world. I'm sure many people have said similar in the past but right now, I don't think there's anyone who could be as happy as I am." Knowing he isn't one for too much sentimentality, she turns and proceeds through the door, back to the party.

His heart swelling with happiness and pride, Charles follows behind and leans down to whisper in her ear with a smile, "Oh I don't know, I can think of one other."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for the comments so far. For those of you waiting on an update to 'Whatever the Circumstances', fear not, I haven't given up on it. The next chapter is with my beta, so as soon as I have it back and have tweaked it, it will be posted.


	3. He Had Done It For Her

**Prompt #8** : Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.

* * *

Mrs Hughes lets out an exhausted sigh as she pauses at the bottom of the stairs on her way to the kitchens. It's been a difficult day; two housemaids have come down with the flu, as has Miss Baxter, meaning her workload had almost tripled. And if that wasn't enough, the blessed Lady Mary had sprung several last minute guests upon them, leading the housekeeper into a confrontation with Mrs Patmore. She's barely had two minutes to herself since she got up and as the festive season is not that long over with, she was looking forward to a quiet few weeks. Alas, it has not worked out that way and as such she is extremely tired and irritable.

"Is everything in order for tonight?" Mrs Hughes asks gingerly as she enters the kitchen.

"Of course," replies Mrs Patmore. "Despite the last minute changes."

"I've said I'm sorry."

"What in heaven's name are you apologising for? As you so clearly pointed out to me earlier, you didn't invite three extra people to dinner!" Since their disagreement earlier, she had noticed how busy the housekeeper had been and had vowed to end the conflict.

"But…"

"No buts. It's Lady Mary who should be apologising, but I don't see hell freezing over anytime soon." Mrs Patmore eyed her friend critically. "You look tired. Daisy! Get that kettle on and take a cup of tea to Mrs Hughes' sitting room."

"There's no need-" protests Mrs Hughes.

"There's every need. You're dead on your feet."

"Actually Mrs Patmore, Mrs Hughes is right," says Daisy causing the two older women to turn and look at her quizzically. "There's no need for me to make Mrs Hughes a pot of tea, as there's already one waiting in her sitting room."

"What are you going on about girl?" asks Mrs Patmore.

"Mr Carson came through a few minutes ago and asked me to make one for her. I put it on your table, Mrs Hughes; it should still be warm."

Mrs Hughes ignores the look of shock on Mrs Patmore's face at the Butler's actions – she isn't privy to the change in their relationship yet, no-one is – and turns to Daisy. "Thank you Daisy. I'd best go and drink it before it goes cold or before I am summoned by Lady Mary once more."

Upon arriving at her sitting room she finds the pot of tea, just as Daisy had described, along with a plate of several shortbread biscuits. She sits down, a weary, relieved sigh escaping her, and smiles at the actions of her fiancé.

She and Charles has been planning to tell the family of their engagement this week but they've had to put that on hold, whilst the house endures a period of illness. Mrs Hughes has been taking extra precautions to make sure Charles doesn't take ill; the memories of his brush with Spanish Flu still worry her. Now it seems he's trying to return the favour; her heart whispers that he has done this for her, to keep her well. He can't do much in their current situation, but he is doing what he can.

While pouring her own cup, Elsie wishes that she had reason to pour a second one but Charles has been just as busy; the flu has invaded the house, he's got a couple of hall boys in bed and Andy in bed with it, and the last time she'd seen Mr Molelsey he'd not looked at all well either. Yet here is Charles, making a special effort to make sure she is cared for.

As she sips the warm, soothing brew, she thanks the Lord for Charles Carson and knows that she is loved.


End file.
